


Phantom Memories

by iamalystark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Depressed Peter Parker, How Do I Tag, I Made Myself Cry, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sad Peter Parker, Suicidal Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 13:30:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamalystark/pseuds/iamalystark
Summary: Sometimes, Peter could still feel a phantom hand on his shoulder, and sometimes he could still smell the familiar scent of oil and axe body spray.





	Phantom Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Endgame spoilers, sorry

Sometimes Peter could almost feel a phantom hand on his shoulder, almost hear his mentor congratulating him on something, almost smell the oil and axe body spray that he'd grown so used to.

When he dreamed, he dreamed of him, and he got it all back, if even just for a little while. And while it was the best thing to ever happen to him, he always woke up crying.

Because when he dreamed of the lab days and the movie nights, it was only a reminder of what he could never have again.

After the Vulture incident, Mister Stark had decided to take Peter under his wing, becoming basically inseparable from the boy.

And when Peter felt himself fading away, he clutched his mentor. He remembered the man's words a few years before.

_If you died, I feel like that's on me._

So he apologized, because Mister Stark didn't need that on his conscious.

And when he came back a few seconds later (five years for the ones who didn't get dusted) his only thought was to get back to Mister Stark.

Doctor Strange had explained everything quickly but Peter hadn't understood, just wanting to be back in his mentor's arms.

Because that's where he was safe. Then they fought. Everybody, strangers, aliens, people Peter didn't know, but they fought.

They fought and they won, at the cost of Mister Stark. Peter saw the moment his mentor knew he was leaving.

And _damn_ if he didn't run, if he didn't try his hardest to get to the gauntlet first. But he was too far, too far and too slow.

He knew that Thanos had survived snapping, and for a few seconds hope had sparked in his heart. But then Mister Stark fell.

And Peter heard the second the man's heart stopped beating, the second his chest stopped rising.

_We won._

He said, because they did. But Peter would have gladly lost if it meant he got to keep his mentor, if it meant he got to keep Tony.

He wasn't proud of it, but he sometimes imagined joining Mister Stark. He imagined just falling when he perched on a roof to listen for crime.

He imagined letting go of his webs. He imagined ignoring his Spidey senses and letting a mugger get the jump on him.

Like most nights, he sat perched on the newly re-bought Avengers tower, staring down at the streets below.

He knew that the remaining Avengers were just inside, he knew his aunt was just a few blocks away, and yet he'd never felt so alone.

He used to have the assurance of Mister Stark being there if he messed up, of Ironman catching him when he fell.

Closing his eyes, Peter let tears slip down his unmasked face. Biting his lip, he stared out into the darkness.

His legs were dangling off the edge, deathly still. Before, he would've swung them like a child, grinning happily as he recounted his patrol to Happy, who he knew redirected his voicemails straight to Mister Stark.

He didn't bother doing that anymore, it didn't feel the same. Peter dug his nails into his palms, trying to remember his mentor- his _father's_ voice.

He tried to remember the anger when he messed up, the amusement when he rambled, the fondness when Peter acted so much like the man people thought they were related, the exhaustion when Peter scared him half to death, anything.

As his breaths came out in white puffs, he imagined just scooting forward a few inches and letting himself fall. He imagined getting to hug Mister Stark again, getting to see that smile that he only ever gave Peter.

But then he distantly heard Morgan laughing. Just then, he could almost feel his father's hand on his shoulder again and he sobbed.

"I miss you Mister Stark. I miss you so bad." Peter cried.

He didn't know if it was a coincidence or just fate, but he suddenly got a strong whiff of oil and axe body spray, and he could feel that phantom hand on his shoulder.

He could almost hear the man's words.

_I miss you too._

Smiling softly, Peter stood. Wiping his tears, he walked back inside, greeted by Morgan rushing at him, wrapping around his legs like a koala.

"Hey Miss Stark." He whispered with a smile.

The little girl grinned up at him with a glint in her eye.

"It's Morgan, Petey. Miss Stark makes me feel old."


End file.
